Word: poorly
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...This is a poor return for the amount of information about the U.S. disclosed daily in its free press, but it means even less to the average Russian reader. In general, he may doubt the word of his lesser newspapers, but when Pravda or Tass (the news agency) speaks, he feels that he is listening to the voice of his Government and is inclined to believe. There are exceptions, of course. I once asked a Russian acquaintance what he thought about a Tass account of a U.S. Negro youth congress which condemned lynchings and the activities of certain U.S. Senators...
...indignation." He was told that the President thought he was nursing presidential aspirations for 1940. Roosevelt, he said, found fault with everyone he "suspected" of wanting to be President. "They were either too old or too young; too ambitious or too unknown, too conservative or too radical, or too poor in health or too lacking in personality...
Camel Meat for the Poor. Through the mud-brick city Sayed Abdul Rahman's spanking new black Chevrolet picked its way. As it entered the square before the tomb, butchers hacked off the heads of three camels and seven oxen. They threw hunks of bleeding meat to the city's poor. Unruffled, the Mahdi's son stepped daintily from his car, unfurled a light blue parasol, mounted the notables' platform...
Pollyanna-wise, the Daily Telegraph was determined to be cheerful and bright about the whole thing. "It would be a poor heart which did not rejoice at this sudden glory of the uncertain English summer," it wrote. "Now that at last this cheerfulness has broken through, let none complain that this sparkling warmth is not to be borne." Grumpily the hot and footsore Standard muttered: "Do not drink iced drinks. They often bring on stomach cramps. Look after the feet. Eau de Cologne and methylated spirits applied at night are helpful...
...quiver to think that I can predict a play is not enough to offset the tragic disappointment when the great Ted has to drop his bat and sidle to first. It is the great flaw in the American psyche. And how would you like to be the guy (poor bastard) who they walk Williams to get to. He's the fellow who will then hit into a double play. Imagine how he feels, letting his teammates down to the sound of icy silence from the stands. Soon the fellow's a neurotic. And who's the gainer? Not the other...